Low Days
by Lord-of-the-Nerds-and-Fandoms
Summary: Bruce Banner is feeling low, and the others are unsure of how they can help. Short one-shot. No non-canon pairings.


**Note**: I needed to channel some of these feelings I'm having into art (to fit into the stereotype), and I figured that Bruce would be the perfect way to do it. I'm not worrying about editing this today, so sorry if you see any mistakes right now.

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I was having one of my low days. The low days where you can barely feel anything inside you but a churning feeling in your gut letting you know that there's no point in anything anymore. I felt hollow, despite the light presence that pressed against the side of my skull. Despite knowing that I wasn't truly alone, the hollowness still ate away at me, and I just don't know what to do. It's almost funny, all the days where I would give _anything_ to feel alone in my own body…

Yesterday, I had been having fun with my best friend, and I laughed, and we bickered, and it was just…good. Sure, I felt a bit down at times, but now I can barely feel anything at all. Nothing will stick in my head, and I can barely keep a coherent thought in my head for but a few moments. I wondered vaguely what brought this on, but after a moment decided to shut my eyes and forget.

The anxiety that usually plagues me day in and day out wasn't even there right now, although maybe that's what the fluttering ache in my gut was, a way for the somewhat rational side of my brain to try and snap me out of it, and to actually care. But I don't care, not right now, anyways.

Of course Tony noticed when I didn't come up to the lab this morning, as I always did. He usually didn't even come up until around one or so, after finally dragging himself out of bed and today was no different. He must've known something was up when the lab was empty, since he always found me waiting for him, crouched over various computer screens and chemicals.

JARVIS must have given me up, and told him that I was still in my room, because it wasn't even two o'clock that I heard a light rapping on the door, soon followed by Tony, who covered a hand over his eyes and asked if I were decent enough for his to come in. I didn't need to reply though; he let himself in before I could have even answered.

"Heeey, Bruce, what's up Doc? You sleepin' all day or what? D'you sneak some of my yager in here last night or-?" he mocked, but was cut short when he saw me, sprawled across my bed, my hair a mess of tangled curls and a thick layer of stubble covering my face. The only thing I had on was a wrinkled shirt, my boxers, and a pair of socks.

I peered over at him, toward the light that pierced the dark room, and raised my brow, face slack, as if questioning his seriousness at suggesting something like that; he knew I never drank.

"Are you sick?" he asked simply, trying to hide his concern that I knew he was feeling; although I couldn't fathom why at the moment.

I pulled the covers over my head as he commanded JARVIS to run some scans, which came back normal (well, my kind of normal). "Tony, not today," I gruffed from beneath the sheets.

I heard Tony step over to the side of the bed. I could imagine him standing there, not knowing what to do, if he should touch my arm or say something. After a moment of silence, he finally asked, "Bruce, are you okay? You almost _never_ sleep in. You're as bad as Cap."

When I didn't answer, he gave me a signature Tony pout and strode over to the wall, entering the code to open the blinds. I had a blinking fit trying to adjust to the sudden amount of afternoon light.

"Come on, you can't mope around all day!" he said, doing a slight twirl and bringing his hands together in a soft '_clap'_. "You can't leave me to entertain myself! Who knows what could happen! I could cure cancer while you're held up in here, asleep!"

I just looked at him, suddenly exhausted, and murmured, "Not today." That was all it took, were those two words and the tiredness written all over my face, for him to understand. His face dropped, and his shoulders slumped forward. He sighed, gave me a quiet "okay," and quickly adjusted the high-tech blinds so that only a small percentage of light filtered through, just enough that I wasn't sitting in the dark, but enough that I could sleep in peace.

* * *

Steve and Tony, even Pepper, all came in to check on me throughout the day. Steve and Tony weren't sure how to approach me; Steve was afraid of setting me off and Tony… well, Tony was just plain awful when it came to feelings. Both ended up leaving after standing in the doorway for a few minutes, or after trying to persuade me to get out of bed; they knew that there was only so much they could do and left accordingly.

Pepper was a bit better, and she left me dinner, a bowl of soup, some bread, and a glass of water (which I didn't end up eating), and simply left. She knew how to handle Tony on his off days, but decided on a different approach than her usual method, and was much gentler in her prodding.

But in the end, nobody made much difference, and they didn't fight me too hard; not that I gave them much of a fight back.

I think that they felt sorry for me too, under all of their worry. Steve probably felt the same sort of thing after waking up and realizing that everyone he knew was dead, which was to be expected. Tony had more ups and downs than a roller coaster. And Pepper was the CEO of a billion dollar company, and was the liaison between a super-secret spy organization and a team of super heroes; not to mention being the girlfriend of Tony Stark, which was probably more stressful than both combined.

Yeah, they all knew how it felt to have a low day.

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_I'd love for you to review (both constructive criticism and kudos)._


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